Film Review: Burning

Lee Chang-dong’s new film, Burning, is the kind of film that defies conventional categorization, and if I were to try and discuss the various ways the film teeters on the edge of certain styles and tones, I’d risk on giving away too much. It’s not that this is a particularly plot heavy film, but it is a slow burn, and one that plays many elements with heightened levels of ambiguity, and spelling out plot points might misrepresent the kind of film this is.

The basic setup is that a young man, Jong-su (Yoo Ah-in), randomly bumps into a girl, Hae-mi (Jeon Jong-seo), who used to live in his neighborhood growing up. They catch up, but she later reveals she’s taking a trip to Africa, and asks Jong-su to take care of her cat while she’s gone. When she returns a few weeks later, she brings with her a mysterious man, Ben (Steven Yeun).

That’s all I’m comfortable giving away, and like I mentioned, it’s not a film big on plot. The film is constructed in a methodical and patient way, where we find ourselves right alongside the characters as they simply sit and chat for extended periods of time. That might sound as dull as can be, but the film is actually riveting from start to finish. And much of that is due to the meticulous filmmaking from Lee Chang-dong, who adapted the short story “Barn Burning” by Haruki Murakami with his co-writer, Oh Jung-mi.

There’s a very trance-like quality to the filmmaking. Shots linger, music is sparse, and the storytelling rests on the idea of keeping information constantly at arms reach. From the beginning, something feels very off about what you’re watching, and that feeling is intensified once Ben enters the picture, given that we are pretty much stuck in the headspace of Jong-su. The runs at nearly two and a half hours, and while it may feel its length at times, it’s never boring. Everything about the film is made to put you just slightly uneasy, and that feeling sticks for the whole film.

Within the it’s lengthy runtime, the film is able to touch on certain themes that involve masculinity, class, loneliness, and desire. It filters these ideas through Jong-su, who is a far more complicated, bordering on unlikable, than you might initially think. Many of his own insecurities seem to manifest themselves in ways that force him to confront dark things, especially once Ben enters the picture. Though, it ultimately forces you – the audience – to think and make up your own mind about the things that happen and the significance of repeated thematic elements.

The performances are all fantastic, and given the length, each actor really gets to sink their teeth into the roles. Steven Yeun is a major standout, though. Bringing a presence that feels both incredibly charming, yet weirdly ominous. It’s an understated performance, but there’s so many layers in the way he plays off each scene, depending on the characters he’s interacting with at that point. It’s great to see him do so well here, as Hollywood hasn’t taken as much advantage of him. Jeon Jong-seu is wonderful, and manages to bring a lot of humanity to a character that in any other film might as well be a walking plot-device. And Yoo Ah-in tackles a complicated character with ease, channeling all the inner-turmoil and paranoia into this vessel of rage and fear, it’s really compelling.

Burning is a haunting piece of filmmaking, and easily one of the best I’ve seen this year. It’s seemingly obtuse approach might seem alienating and frustrating, but Lee Chang-dong’s direction is so assured and so calculated, that it made the film effortlessly watchable. The performances are stellar, especially from Steven Yeun, and it invites the audience to challenge their perspective about the people we see and how we connect with them. There’s so much to unpack here, that I feel totally unprepared, which is very much a good thing in my book. It’s a very singular experience that can’t be compared to any other film released in 2018.